[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/K1HU7o2.jpg[/img]
[h2] [color=aba000]Emilia Kirra[/color] [/h2] [/center]


She sat in a dark room, the sound of insects and keystrokes permeating the bareness that was her studio apartment. Normally, the neighbors would be fighting over this and that. It became almost an enjoyable experience to eavesdrop on these people, even if it did tend to take away from her Though she believed it never resulted in any sort of physical violence, it was clear that this couple wasn't happy with their marriage. 

Emilia wasn’t the sort who cared much about any sorts of privacy.. Or perhaps she did care about such subjects when it applied to her. The sort that didn't care about the private lives of those who she had any sort of relations with, but would rather keep to themselves in regards to their personal demons. 

The light of the moon came crashing through the slight crack in the haphazardly drawn curtains. Though it would be impossible for anyone to reach the second floor of her balcony to look at the young girl, sitting on her desk, staring at her computer screen with a ravenous fervor, yet vacuous, almost purposeless poise, a mechanical cacophony of pattering away as her fingers moved quickly upon her keyboard; far quicker than most else could really accomplish. Her clearly tired eyes seemed almost glued to the computer screen. Whatever she was invested in on the screen seemed to make the outside world almost inconsequential in her eyes. A robber could have entered her room and stolen her television, but not her computer, and she likely would not have noticed from her addictive stare into the screen. 

She had been behind on her blog posts for some time now, often unable to post as regularly with the inclusion of classes into her daily schedule. Studying was important to her, as was being punctual, but at the same time Emilia tended towards the political.Often, one could say that Emilia was a bit of an “extremist”. She had a website, mostly for her discussing things on a political level. 

Though she did make a small amount of money from these posts as donations on Patreon, money was inconsequential to Emilia, her personal bank account often getting filled by a father who was both rich and affluent in the political scene, but lost the love of his daughter, and with his wife passed on, only really understood how to provide some semblance of affection by throwing money at his problem until it went away. 

A sigh of relief and a kick away from her machine, her chair rolling away from the desk towards her bed as in a single motion she jumped from her sitting position onto her bed. She wanted to sleep. Her body screamed for rest as she laid there 

… for the entirety of a moment.. 

The blaring of her alarm had reinvigorated her, much to her chargin.

[color=aba000]“Goddammit!”[/color] the girl yelled, perhaps waking up those who had not been woken up by their own alarm clocks, slapping at the tolling bell that came crashing to the floor, continuing it’s annoying ring until Emilia choose to get out from her lazing position to manually shut off the analogue clock’s alarm. 

In her vigor, she had forgotten about the fact that she had school today. Running a few quick thought experiments about the prospect of perhaps sleeping in a day of school, a sigh of resignation had displayed her surrender to the fate of an awful school day.

[color=aba000]“4 o’clock...This isn’t what I meant by “night classes”,”[/color] the student groaned to herself, a tad bit upset for the moment at something she really didn’t have control over.. By the time she had signed up for classes, many of the premium real estate was already shoved off to the more senior and wiser students who understood the intense benefit and purpose of punctuality. 

With slow, sluggish movements, she had readied herself for the day ahead of her, quickly dressing in a makeshift outfit put together in perhaps a few moments time. Though her day would be tedious, she understood on a fundamental level the importance of punctuality. Regardless of this punctuality, even if she would be late, there would be no course of the day that would involve the girl not getting her morning coffee. 

Arriving at her favorite chain coffee shop, she had ordered her standard, sugary order that seemed overly flamboyant for a morning brew. She sat down in a comfortable recliner that the coffee shop had allowed their consumers to take part of and connected her laptop to the wifi provided by the shop and began to scroll through, at first, the feedback she had been given on her blog post, responding to constructive comments that praised her work and banning usernames that seemed more malicious as she had always done, and then proceeded to look on a news blog she was subscribed and friends with the owner to see if there were any updates on said blog. 

After a short amount of time, her searches tended towards more frivolous ideas such as browsing the posts of silly things on social media sites.

Looking to her phone, she realized that her time here would have to be cut short, and she began to pack her PC when something felt … odd … about her surroundings. Something that initially she couldn't really put understanding towards in her mind, feeling a bit sick at what her mind shouted to be impossible. 

Impossible. Such a setup couldn’t have happened within the timeframe that Emilia remembered. Had she fallen asleep? What was going on here?

Surrounding her were several, people scattered around a rounded table in a room she could hardly discern any sort of shape or volume to. It was as if the girl had once again fallen asleep.. Likely, considering the complete lack of sleep from the night’s previous escapades. Had she taken a nap in the coffee shop? 

No.

That couldn’t be it.

Looking around, the confused girl looked towards the first speaker, a strangely dressed woman in the middle of this table, as if presented as an offering on this very day to all those around. Her clothing seemed more kin to a cosplayer or a halloween costume than something casual or serious, which further seemed to suggest that what was occurring was little more than a dream.. 

[color=aba000]"… My existence … core desire?”[/color] Emilia parroted the statement by the cosplaying older lady. [color=aba000]“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Is this some sort of prank?”[/color]

Strange visions of a text she hardly understood plagued her sight, seemingly striping away from what she considered “sane” in this world. There was no way this could be happening. It was all just a dream. But even so, she couldn’t shake this feeling in the back of her mind that this was “real”.  Though the entire feeling did tend towards the ethereal, there was something in her mind that shouted that though the events which had occurred seemed almost fantastical in their conception, there was no way that what was occurring before her was anything less than “real”. 

[color=aba000] “Who the hell are you people? I don’t understand what any of this means, you shitty cosplayer!” [/color]